Trophies
by Exilo
Summary: Lisa thought she knew what monsters were. She thought she had seen the worse the world had to offer. She was wrong, but she's not the type to sit down and cower. R&R please. One shot. Hope you like.


**Starseeker asked me to write something for Predator. Well, this one took about an hour and a half to write. I then spent 4 days coming up with a title! Why does that always happen? R&R please, and I hope you like.**

_Trophies_

Lisa wasn't sure how long she had been running. Fear caused her thoughts to ignore the stifling heat of the city's night, but her body was drenched in sweat from near constant movement. Her leg muscles were inflamed. Any second it seemed her body would give way. Her bare feet (for she had taken off her high heels long ago) were scratched and cut, leaving a trail of blood that could be followed without much trouble. She was heedless to all this. She didn't feel the pain that racked her body. There was a numbness from her fear. All she could think of was running.

But even if her mind was willing, her body was weak. A sharp, blinding pain in her right foot sent lightning through her already strained muscles, and she fell, and found herself skidding along the cement ground. Her forearms, which she had pushed in front of her to break her fall, were scratched and lacerated on the unforgiving sidewalk. She tried to get to her feet, and couldn't, and looking back she saw that she had stepped on a glass bottle. There was a long, jagged stretch of glass in her foot, shining slightly in the streetlight's pale glow. She bit back a scream, but she couldn't stop tears from dripping into her eyes. And all she could think of was getting up. She tried to stand, and this time she did scream in bloody agony before falling back down. All she had managed to do was cut her arms up worse, and alerted the entire neighborhood to her presence.

"Hey girly, you lost or something?"

Lisa's heart fluttered, and she looked up to see three rather large men exiting the house she had fallen in front of. She bit her lip, looking up to them as the three surrounded her, blocking the streetlight so all she could stare at was their girth and shadow. Not that she needed much of a view to see what sort of people they were. By the swastika on one's shirt, the shaven heads, the combat boots, she knew quickly. And she wondered just how far she had been running. Unable to run, her mind began to go back. It was her own fault. She had…could anyone blame her for panicking? She should have gone back to the precinct, but…she was just so scared. And maybe some part of her feared bringing that thing back to the precinct. Whatever the reason, she couldn't stop running. Every shadow seemed to be that monster hiding, waiting for her. Ready to take her by the head and tear her apart like she had done to others. "You…" She paused. "Fuck it, I need help!"

The three men exchanged glares. Lisa took a moment to look around. Decrypt buildings, bars on windows, bolt locks and steel doors. She was a blonde girl wearing a blue cocktail dress, bleeding from any exposed skin, laying in the middle of ghetto. No time for that. Stay calm. Stay focused. She had fucked up enough tonight. "I need help."

"Clearly. Boys, let's get her inside."

"Look, you don't want to do this," Lisa said, as two men grabbed her arms and one took her legs, pulling her legs apart rather sharply and earning a sudden scream as she tried to close her legs. "No, no. Listen to me, damn it! There's something chasing me."

"Relax, ma'am, we'll keep you safe. Don't worry, see, I'm a cop!"

Lisa struggled and twisted, but the grip around her arms grew tighter, as did the grip on her legs, this time clenching them tight until she feared her ankles would snap to pieces in the grip. "You have to listen to me! Look at me! Do I look like I was just wandering around? It's fucking after me!" A fourth man who had stayed at the door stepped to his side, holding the door open as the three carried her inside. "My name is Agent Lisa Trevor. I'm working as a liaison to the police department. I was working undercover, trying to get close to Big Tony."

"Oh, man, you can't expect us to believe this," said the man that carried her left arm.

"Big Tony is fucking dead. This thing, this Hunter…attacked his mansion. I've just been running since." She squirmed. "Listen to me, fuck it! It's going to kill all you."

Behind her, there was the sound of a heavy door closing. Probably a steel door. Those were popular, lately. Big Tony even had one in his bedroom, not that it did him much good. "That's not going to fucking stop it, you dumb fucks! The door can be titanium, it'll get through!"

"She talks so damn much," said one of the men. Lisa thrashed furiously. Now that they were inside, one of the men took hold of her, and threw her over his shoulder. Her chest, under her breasts, hit his boney shoulder and knocked the wind out of her. She groaned, clenching her jaw tight and squirming slightly. "Bring her into the back. We've still got to get this shipment out. We can play with her later."

Lisa calmed down, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the sweat and tobacco smell the man reeked of. She swallowed her gorge. She tried to stay calm, she had to stay calm, and looked around where she was now. Lots of black and red. Lots of fast food wrappers and one or two hoods. A bloodied bat in a corner. And on the tables, assault rifles and light machine guns, as well as a few Glocks that were growing in popularity. These must have been some of the Wolf's Hooks, a group of white supremacist gun runners. Just one of the cells. She had familiarized herself with all the crime in this city when she had been assigned to it. "Listen to me," she said calmly, to the big man that held her. "My name is Lisa Trevor, I'm an FBI agent. I was working undercover on Big Tony, but this…thing came and razed the whole mansion. It killed everyone: Tony's men and the FBI team that was going to bring him in. Turn on the news, it's probably all over it."

"Lady, you're selling, no one is buying. Just give up."

Lisa was going mad. If she had anything to use, she'd have killed this idiot by now. She had taken a .45 off one of Tony's men and shot the Hunter until she ran out of bullets, but after the Hunter didn't seem fazed she had dropped it. Now she had nothing, and lay limp over his shoulder.

She was brought to one of the backrooms, one of the bedrooms most likely, and the man tossed her in. She landed hard on the ground, bruising her legs, maybe breaking some of her ribs or dislocating a few fingers. And behind her, the door slammed shut. Locks clicked into place, and she didn't have to check the windows to know there were bars that she wouldn't be able to get through. The only light was a single hanging bulb from the ceiling that glowed dimly. She could search for a weapon that the men maybe kept in here, but she somehow doubted it. She doubted they would be stupid enough to leave something in their quarters like that, especially if they stuffed their victims in here for later. They could have just as easily put her in the bathroom or a closet. The bathrooms and closets probably had the guns and knives.

First thing was first. She carefully pulled her dress off her chest. Not that she enjoyed the thought of being bare, as any minute one of the idiots might come stomping through the door, but she needed to do something about her foot. Using her teeth, she managed to rip the dress. Bundling one piece of the fabric, she placed it in her mouth and bit down hard. Then, carefully, she pulled the stretch of glass out of her foot, teeth gritting hard on the fabric. Quickly, before she bled all over the floor, she tied the torn dress over her foot.

Second thing. She lifted up carefully, favoring her wounded foot, and stumbled over to the closet. Though she didn't find any gun or even any of the men's spare clothes she might hope to wear, she did find a rather large cardboard box. Pulling it out into the dim light, she opened it, and found any number of women's clothing and jewelry.

"Trophies," she muttered, through clenched teeth.

Again, she swallowed her bile, and began rummaging through the bin of clothing, ignoring the stench of stale perfumes and a lingering odor of blood. "Come on Lisa. You can do this." After rummaging for a minute or two, she found a pair of jeans and a grey spaghetti strap that wasn't too large on her rather thin dimensions. No shoes, not that she would want them with how agonizing her foot was. She used one of the shirts to wipe the sweat from her eyes and off her arms, and for the first time realized how thirsty she was. Her tongue hurt. Her throat felt tight and dry. She groaned, pushing those thoughts away.

Third was a weapon. She…she knew that Hunter would be coming for her. She just knew it. And after confirming there were no hidden guns throughout the room, she settled for improvisation. Walking up to one of the cots, she carefully undid the screws of one of the legs, lifting it and then setting it down so she could take the leg away without the bed crashing to the floor. She pulled the leg away, and then put three of the screws back into the end, giving the club a piercing ability. Walking up to the door and waiting at the inside of the wall, she settled down. No sense in trying to break the door down. The men would hear her pounding on it, come running and probably shoot her. The best course of action would be wait for them to come, pray that only one came in, and kill him as quick as she could.

Pray. She paused a moment, and went back to the box. She had seen a soft glint of gold in the otherwise lackluster clothing, but at that time had ignored it. She pulled it out, and was relieved to find a small crucifix. Nothing big, and putting the chain around her neck, she found it didn't hang too low. It seemed doubtful someone would be able to get a hold of it during a grapple. But she didn't want to risk it, and instead slipped it into her cleavage, smiling softly, as it was now close to her heart.

Returning to the doorway, she settled down, closing her eyes. With her left hand, she touched her heart, counting her beats for a time, before tilting her head backwards, and reciting familiar prayers under her breath.

When she heard a crashing and gunshots and shouts, she stood up, and readied her makeshift bat. The pain in her foot was now just dull agony, and the burning over her lacerated skin had settled down as well. She assumed a stance like a baseball batter, and readied herself. When the door opened, and one of the men took a step inside, she swung, twisting her whole body and hitting the head of her club square in his stomach. The man gasped and doubled over. Lisa pulled the bat back, lifted it over her head, and swung it down into his right shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she quickly lowered to her knees and rolled the body over onto its back. Clenched in one of his hand was a Desert Eagle, and she pried the massive weapon from his clenched fingers. "Overcompensating much?" she asked, checking the weapon over. He hadn't even squeezed off a shot.

She caught her breath, and slowly stepped out of the room, checking the direction he had come from. The hallway was empty. She headed down the hallway, squatting when she came to a corner and peeking out to find the main room where the guns had been, and a rather ghastly sight to her eyes. Ghastly enough she looked away and covered her mouth to suppress any noise. One of the men been spiked against a wall with what looked like a spear, another was missing a head and squished against the ground, most likely from that shoulder blaster Lisa had seen when the Hunter attacked Big Tony's mansion. There were four men though, and she could only assume that the fourth man was in a room farther. But there were no more sounds of fighting.

Lisa shook her head, and tucked the over sided magnum into her pants. She needed to pass through this room to get to the front door, the only exit she was sure of. Gritting her teeth, she picked up an M-16 that was laying on the table. She knew how to use it, maybe even better than how to use a Desert Eagle. Carefully, she loaded it with one of the clips she found on the floor. Again she touched her chest, wording a prayer but not actually saying anything as she began quietly walking through the room, avoiding the spreading pools of blood.

She was halfway through the room when the air at the other doorway shivered, and was suddenly filled by the vague outline of the Hunter. Perhaps the Hunter hadn't been expecting her, because, she wasn't instantly vaporized by its little shoulder cannon, but she was so shocked and frightened by its presence, and she did not immediately shoot at the Hunter either. Nevertheless, she recovered first. Dropping to her knee, she lined the sights of the assault rifle. The Hunter's shoulder cannon raised and fired, but shot went over her head instead of adjusting to her now kneeling position. She could actually feel the heat burn at her scalp. She aimed for that shoulder cannon first, then a little to the right where she assumed the Hunter's head would be. She squeezed the trigger, and fired a short burst into the Hunter. She heard what she assumed would be a roar, and squeezed again, this time holding tight on the trigger and doing what she could to control the recoil of automatic fire. Halfway through the clip, the air shivered, and the Hunter's form was revealed. She noticed the brown metal ballistic mask it wore, but its chest had a distinctly flesh yellow color, and she leaned forward, using her weight to move the aim down and pepper the Hunter's chest with bullet. Green blood splashed out with each entrance of the bullets.

She emptied the entire magazine into the Hunter, and it seemed hurt by how it held its chest. But lifting its masked face to her, it roared like an animal and suddenly charged forward. And Lisa threw herself over one of the tables, snatching up one of the rifles magazine's as she landed. The Hunter stumbled slightly as she dodged, and swung a massive fist down. The table shattered in half, but Lisa was already running. Adrenaline killed the agony in her foot, enough that she could get out of the room before the Hunter was upon her.

Technically, she had stepped out of the room and was in the hallway before she felt a grip on her hair snap her head back. She screamed, almost losing her balance, but an arch of her back kept her on her feet. She turned, screaming and dropping the M-16 and the clip, as the Hunter held tightly to her hair, threatening to rip it out at the roots. The Hunter's free hand tensed, before stretching, and a jagged blade emerged from its wrist gauntlet.

Lisa pulled the magnum from her pants and buried the muzzle into the Hunter's thick forearm, before squeezing. The bullet exploded into the Hunter's arm, the exit wound splashing Lisa's face with that luminous green blood. She braced her hand again, before firing, opening another wound in the Hunter's arm, and causing it to release her. She fell to her knees, legs feeling weak, but had a thought. Assuming this Hunter had anything resembling normal biology…

She tried lifting the magnum, but found it to be painfully heavy, enough her arm couldn't manage. Above her, the Hunter took a few steps back, roaring at the pain in its arms before again focusing on Lisa. It lifted the bladed arm, and approached, as she lifted the magnum with both hands. When it was in range, she leaned forward and pressed the magnum into the Hunter's crotch, squeezing the trigger with all her might.

The Hunter roared louder than she had ever imagined. She threw herself to the side to avoid the falling body, rolling over the ground. Every muscle in her body was screaming at her to stop, but she felt a warm breeze touch her face, and looking to the door, she saw that the Hunter had gone as far as breaking it down. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that the Hunter was thrashing and roaring, holding the gaping wound between its legs. Gritting her teeth, she stood, and stumbled her way out of the apartment, holding her chest, holding her arm and scalp. Blood trickled out of her scalp and over her face. Agony settled in the pit of her stomach and threatened to make her vomit as she hurried into the warm air, and was suddenly outside.

Now what? She fell to her knee, holding her chest. But what could she do? Her heart was pounding so painfully in her chest, her skin felt like it was on fire from the lacerations. She had to get help. She had to stand. But her legs felt like dry twigs that would snap under her.

Behind her, there was a roar. Lisa looked over her shoulder to see the Hunter stumble out of the doorway, dripping green blood out of him and to the ground. "Oh God," Lisa whimpered. "Please god. Please. Just fucking die!"

As if stricken, the Hunter fell, first to his knees, then to the ground flat. Lisa slumped weakly. She lay down, exhausted. Her eyes began to close, but she fought that biting tired and forced her eyes open. Once the Hunter was dead, once she was sure, then she could pass out. Eyes open, she saw a clawed foot just before her, gradually appearing out of shimmering air. She looked up, and through pained tears she saw another Hunter. "No," she whimpered. "Please, God, no."

The new Hunter took something from his belt, before squatting down over Lisa. She stared at his hand. She could do nothing to counter any attack, she couldn't move, but she wanted to see it. She wanted to see her death coming, stare it down. Clawed finger nails, amphibious skin. Skin a darker color than the other Hunter. That's how she knew that it was different on first sight. This new Hunter's mask was different as well. She could see it now that he was squatting over her. The Hunter took her by the arm and lifted her up. He brought his other hand up to Lisa, earning a whimper, and he suddenly sprayed her arm with what he held in his hand. A soothing wave settled over her scars and scrapes. The Hunter was quick to spray her other arm, and her bleeding scalp. He handed her the spray can, and then turned his back to her, walking to the other Hunter. Lisa bit her lip. She wasn't sure, but finally she lifted her wounded foot and tugged the wrapping off, biting her lip at the burning pain. Taking off the dried bandages, ripping at the dried skin, exposing the wound to the air, the dull pain had suddenly turned to ripping agony. She was quick to spray her foot with the fluid, and gave a heavy sigh as the pain was stopped.

It was amazing technology, what she held in the palm of her hand. It wasn't just a sedative, like she thought. Staring at her foot, she could actually see her skin starting to stitch itself together.

The Hunter lifted the other over his shoulder without visible difficulty. He returned to Lisa, who was now leaning against a street lamp. She hesitated to look at the Hunter, but he took her by the chin, and cracked her head up to face him. He released her head when she gave a yelp. From his belt, he took up a jagged knife and handed it to her, handle first. Lisa took it carefully. The Hunter took the healing spray back, and started walking away, the other carried over his shoulder. After a few steps, he had disappeared into the shimmering glow.

Lisa was left alone, the absurd happenings of this night seemingly over. The worst of the wounds had healed, but the scars remained, one of the few testimonies that this had not just been a dream. She examined the hefty blade, and thought of discarding it, but stopped. Putting it on her belt, she headed back the way she had come. She needed to get back to the precinct, and try to fathom what the hell to put in the report.


End file.
